


Sweet Memories

by goodwineandcheese



Category: Monster
Genre: Comfort and Fluff, Emotional Abuse, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Tenma is super supportive, discussion of kinderheim experiments, no abuse is shown, psychological abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 09:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18657250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodwineandcheese/pseuds/goodwineandcheese
Summary: "Everyone lives" post-canon AU. Suk makes a discovery that could reveal more about Grimmer's past. Grimmer isn't sure if he's ready, but at least he won't be alone.





	Sweet Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Well this was _supposed_ to just be a quick lil Tenma/Grimmer post-canon cute fic and that didn't quite happen. It went a whole different direction and decided to be about some of what may have happened in Kinderheim to those kids. Nothing too triggery happens, though Kinderheim experiments and their effects are discussed in slight detail, especially psychological abuse. It’s mostly a comfort feel-good fic despite the sad.
> 
> There are a few liberties taken about how Kinderheim operates and I wound up giving Grimmer a “real” name…I hope it’s not too bad lmao, we just never learn his real name so I gotta improvise :/ wth Urasawa

_I think I found something. Something...well, it's currently under review, but it's something that might help you. I'll be in contact once we know for sure._

...

Sleep had escaped him yet again. Two times...that was two times this week.

“The dream...?”

Kenzo’s voice wafted gently beside him, spoken low as if not to disturb his partner, though both were clearly awake. Grimmer had come to recognize certain things in his voice - the emotions that Kenzo felt had particular sounds to them, he had found. The voice he had used just now was calm, but there were hints of what he now identified as concern. 

There were nights, from time to time, when this happened. In the past it hadn’t been much of a bother; now, though, with Kenzo only inches away, he was keenly aware of Grimmer's state of rest - or lack thereof. It was during those times that, even sleep deprived and barely conscious, Kenzo would use those gently comforting, but concerned, tones. There was no _real_ danger, so the concern had seemed misplaced at first. Grimmer hadn’t quite grasped the reason for such an emotion. 

He understood it now, at least in part. The very fact that Grimmer was plagued by dreams at all was enough to stir the gentle doctor’s heart; compassion was a deeply powerful emotion, and one that Kenzo felt unabashedly. He understood that, although perhaps unnecessary, Kenzo’s concern was a very normal response to have. Grimmer found he was grateful for it in some sense; to be cared for even over such little things was a baffling, but warming, concept. 

He turned slowly, rolling onto his side to face Kenzo. It was still quite dark, but so close he could feel the man watching him even before his eyes opened. Tiredly he allowed his lips to curve upward, forming a subtle little smile, an expression that he hoped would ease some of those worries.

“Yes. But, I’m all right. I’m sorry I woke you.”

There was a muffled sound from Kenzo that he couldn’t quite match to a word, but before he could decipher what was said, he felt a gently ticklish sensation against his cheek, making his smile brighten just a little of its own accord. He felt the way Kenzo’s thumb drew gently against skin. It was a very kind sort of gesture.

The “dream” was, itself, not painful in the way some of his past terrors were; it wasn’t at all a frightening dream. In fact, he might call it pleasant. In the dream, he was somewhere unsteady. At first, he couldn’t tell why, until he looked around. He was on the water, in a little boat of some sort - a small one, with only himself and a second individual present. In the dream, “he” was small - a child, perhaps. The second figure in the boat, steering them, was tall - very tall, with dusty blond hair. He never saw the man’s face, only the back of his head as he steered their little boat. And then he - the boy, in the dream - would laugh. It was a gentle sound that felt familiar.

That was when he would wake. Or earlier, if Kenzo roused him. It was always such a vastly painful feeling he would rise to, sometimes accompanied by the half-dried wetness where tears had been. This particular dream was new, one that had begun a short time ago. It had been vague at first, but the more he saw it, the clearer it became.

Grimmer hadn’t quite understood why such a seemingly pleasant dream would cause such hurt. It wasn’t until after he told Kenzo that he started to understand. He was almost sure of it, that his dream was an echo - a wish he once had, that he might one day take his son out on a little boat on the Elbe river to go fishing. Though why that returned to plague him now, after so long...

There was a soft rustle beside Grimmer, and a few moments later he felt Kenzo nestle warmly against him, the hand against his cheek moving instead to rest comfortably around his shoulders. He didn’t speak, but there was no need to; nothing could be said to erase intangible visions his mind concocted, but Kenzo’s presence, his touch, was grounding. It gave him somewhere to focus that felt comforting, something in the present to keep his mind from wandering. He turned his focus on the sleepy man.

“I’ll make us breakfast, when there’s a little more light out.” he breathed, letting his eyes slip closed. “Is there anything in particular you’d like?”

It was Grimmer’s way of apologising; on nights like this, it really wasn’t fair to Kenzo. He slept so little as it was, and Grimmer’s occasional startles only deprived him further. There was a thoughtful hum beside him as Kenzo seemed to consider. 

“No, not….anything.” 

A pause, then a sleepy giggle. 

“As in...I mean that...anything’s fine.” 

Grimmer chuckled quietly in response, though poked no outward fun at the man. If anything, that was an indicator that they should try to get at least a little more sleep. He leaned in, planting a gentle kiss to Kenzo’s brow.

“Then I suppose I’ll surprise you.”

There was a tired mutter of assent, and Grimmer relaxed, pulling the blankets up around them just a little.

“Goodnight, Kenzo.”

“Mmnight."

* * *

The morning was slow, comfortably so; managing to slide out from under Kenzo’s arm - still curled about his shoulders - Grimmer had the idea to treat the exhausted surgeon to light, fluffy pancakes. The intent had been to deliver breakfast back to their room to allow Kenzo just a little more rest, but it seemed the wafting aroma was too much to keep him under the covers and, bleary eyed but awake, Kenzo had joined him in the kitchen. 

“You know, you didn’t have to do this.”

Kenzo’s voice came warmly as he went to make a pot of coffee - something that both sorely needed. He pulled two mugs from the overhead cabinet, passing plates over to Grimmer as he prepared their breakfast. Grimmer only shrugged in response.

“You’re right. But, I wanted to. There’s something pleasant about sharing a good, yummy meal with good company. Or I think so, at least.”

Ah, that was a bit presumptuous….he wasn’t quite sure if it was “yummy” yet, but then, he liked to believe that he’d become quite adept as a chef. Whether the statement was true or not, it earned a polite chuckle from Kenzo, and that was enough. Grimmer plated up the pancakes and took them to the dining table as Kenzo took a moment to pour them each coffee. 

“Sugar for you?”

“Yes, if you would.”

Kenzo brought both coffee cups and cutlery to the table, settling in with just a little more light in his eyes. Being on his feet seemed to wake him just a little more.

As they sat and started to eat, Kenzo’s face shifted to something that seemed, as far as Grimmer could tell, surprised. He glanced Grimmer's way and he waited, sure that the good doctor would speak his mind if it was important. The man took a moment to swallow his first bite, a smile crossing his lips.

“Blueberry?”

Well...Grimmer had been quite sure that was obvious, by the slightly purplish coloration that bled through where the berries were baked in. Though, tired as he was, Kenzo probably hadn’t been paying much mind when he put it in his mouth. He seemed delighted, though, so Grimmer was glad.

“I thought I’d do something differently.”

“It’s good. I like it.”

On the whole, breakfast itself was quiet. Pleasant. There was no talk of the dream - it had become something of an unspoken rule they both obliged. They had shared their moment of comfort that night; those feelings couldn’t touch him here, and so he allowed himself to move forward. Eventually the dreams would cease; this sort of thing took time, they both understood that. 

Once they’d finished, the two cleared the table. Kenzo started washing the dishes, handing them to Grimmer to dry off and put them away. He had a particular look on his face - thoughtful, but a bit distant. It seemed like he was going to speak up, only for him to halt. This time, Grimmer would have to do the coaxing.

“Something on your mind?”

Kenzo seemed a little surprised by the gently spoken question, eyes widening slightly, a mild, sheepish flush dusting his cheeks for a moment. Most likely he believed his thoughts were hidden, but Kenzo had become something of an open book to Grimmer, over the last few months. Though, he didn’t pry any further; if Kenzo wanted to talk, then that was his choice. Finally, though, the man looked back to Grimmer, nodding.

“I was just wondering if you’d heard anything more from Suk. About...”

Kenzo trailed off, but Grimmer knew what he meant. That particular subject...

It had come as a bit of a surprise; the young detective had called out of the blue to notify the men that more surviving documents from Kinderheim had been found. Looking deeper into the roots of that place was a project that Suk had taken on, though Grimmer had been sure his efforts would amount to very little. He had been wrong; an investigation of former instructors at 511 Kinderheim, and a more thorough look into Director Biermann, had proved fruitful. What had been found was currently being reviewed by the Prague police force, but the detective had promised to share the records with his friend. 

There was a slight change in the atmosphere that Grimmer could detect; something that he couldn’t quite explain, but sensed regardless. Heavy, something that felt like a physical weight. He felt his smile falter slightly.

“Not yet. But I imagine it will be soon.”

Grimmer had to admit to a degree of anticipation. In the past, he had tracked and traced as much as he could about Kinderheim from what meager resources he could; knowing that more existed, and was nearly within reach, stirred an unusual combination of feelings - something tense, apprehensive and yet excited all at once. 

Ah, and...looking back now, his dream...that had started shortly after Suk’s announcement. It would make sense...truthfully, he hadn’t expected that Suk would find anything at all. To receive such a call...it had been a bit of a shock.

A wet hand lay itself over his own - slightly cold and soapy, though Grimmer made no complaints. He raised his thumb to brush gently against the underside of Kenzo's hand, quietly appreciative.

“I’ll be there with you. You won’t be alone.”

_Won’t be alone._

It was such a simple sentiment, and one that he knew; ever since Kenzo came forward about his feelings, since he had reciprocated, Grimmer hadn’t ‘been alone’. But somehow, hearing the words spoken brought a sense of comfort. It seemed like such a silly emotional response, but then, by nature emotions were hardly logical. He was glad for Kenzo’s words. Grimmer turned to brush hair from his partner’s face, his heart feeling quite fond just then.

“Thank you.”

* * *

It wasn’t until the next week that they received the call. At least Grimmer’s dream didn’t seem to surface in that time - or if it did, it hadn’t woken him. Though, now, the apprehension he felt had returned, far more strongly than before. He wanted to enjoy the trip to Prague, but there was a part of his mind that remained uncertain.

In the past, what he’d found had mostly pertained to articles - a recount of the events surrounding Kinderheim, Biermann’s research papers...all information that was cold and detached. But from what Suk had described, what they had found was much more personal and intimate; drawings, letters, things that were created by the children from within that place. Experiment data. It was a daunting concept, when he knew that any of those letters could have come from himself. There was no telling what memories from that place might be sparked. What parts within himself he might see.

“If you aren’t sure about this, we don’t have to go right away.”

Kenzo remained a comforting presence, keenly aware of his partner’s unease. Grimmer had said nothing of it, not aloud, but the good doctor was surely as in tune with his emotions as he was with Kenzo’s.

Grimmer couldn’t bring himself to smile, even as they made their way toward the Prague police station. He would have liked to put a smile on, the way he normally would, but it felt incorrect; his face felt alien, twisted, when he tried. Instead he maintained a neutral expression, his lips drawn in a thin line.

“I think that it’s important to,” he said at last, meeting Kenzo’s gaze with his own, weary though it was. “The children in that place finally have a chance to be heard. That’s a door that shouldn’t be closed.”

He had spoken in a particular way; an unconscious choice in language he hadn’t noticed, not until after he'd said it. _The children,_ as if to separate himself from their numbers. It didn’t go unnoticed; Kenzo had a look about him, something that was both understanding and sad. He nodded slowly, seemingly trying to maintain a calm about himself.

“It’s all right to be afraid. But just remember, no matter what you find, you-”

“-I’m not alone. I know.” Grimmer took a deep breath, his expression easing just a little, not so taut, not so sad. “Knowing that gives me a bit more strength. If it was only me, I’m not sure I’d be so brave.”

Truthfully, it wasn’t what he might find that gave Grimmer such unease. Rather, it was what he could be forced to accept. If he were to learn….to find out his name, who he was...it would give him the means to trace back his family. That was a frightening concept, something that could undo the image he had fabricated for himself. Who they had been...the circumstances that led him to Kinderheim…as of now, he could exist in a world of uncertain possibilities. That sort of knowledge would give him the truth. And this particular truth had no good endings.

And of course, to learn who he was in the past was to accept that “Grimmer” was not that person. If he were to visit a snapshot of his youth, it would be through the eyes of an outsider. That child...no longer existed. That person was someone else, someone he couldn’t be, not now.

So long as Kenzo was with him, he could face that truth. He felt it was important; that he should say goodbye to himself, show the boy of his youth that he had become someone now. Someone who was loved, and felt love. If he could do that, then the boy he once was could rest. And of his family…

Whatever it was he found...if he found anything at all...he _had_ a family. Kenzo...had become that family. Just as the good doctor had said, he wasn’t alone. He was prepared to face whatever Suk had uncovered.

The young police detective greeted them politely, though there was a sense of urgency about him just as much as Grimmer. Still, he offered a firm handshake, and kept his composure rather well. Certainly he had matured since they last saw the boy.

“Everything's ready if you'd like to look at it now, and we've made copies of anything important to the investigation, so you can take what you need for your own cause. Just be careful; some of what we found might be a little unsettling for you.”

Suk’s caution was met with a nod and a word of thanks from Tenma before he ushered them into a small room, closing the door. They wouldn’t be disturbed here. The two sat beside each other at the small desk, the thick yellow folder facing them. Nothing was said aloud, but Grimmer was almost certain that Kenzo was saying it again, somehow, with only his presence - _you’re not alone._ He focused on that feeling when they finally began.

The first page was a list of names. Grimmer recognized a few - they were on the same list he had taken from the safe deposit box Biermann had told him about. This list however was longer, with several columns of numbers next to each name. It looked like a chart of physical information - height, weight, age. Attached was a blurry photograph - a class photo of sorts, with the boys all together. Even in this picture, they looked unwell - sallow faced and somber. To the left stood Biermann. And to the right…

Grimmer let out a long, slow breath. He could feel eyes on him, knew Kenzo was watching. Felt the kind brush of contact against his arm.

“He’s gone now.” Grimmer said simply, both to himself and his partner. “The past is in the past.”

He set that aside, lifting the next page. It was handwritten, in a scrawl he didn't recognize. 

_The Letterbox_

_Enclosed is a compilation of letters as written by various children within the program through its development. Each week, the children are expected to write to their families as a means to track the child’s retention of long and short term memory. The selected letters in this compilation demonstrate the varied response of each child to the current formula._

_Within the first three weeks, most children show an average 12% decay, with a prevalence in audiovisual recognition. Children no longer recognize sounds or voices that were familiar to them. 65% of class students presented with photographs of family members struggled to recognize their faces. By six weeks recognition depletes to nearly 0 in all children. Names and events stored in memory seem to vary; most children could still recall the name of a parent even when they could not recognize his or her face. It appear_

“It's all right, try to relax. It’s okay to give yourself time.”

Grimmer blinked, suddenly disoriented. It felt as though he had just emerged from a deep dive; he wasn’t quite dizzy, but certainly he felt unsteady. He realized that his body had gone tense; that was probably what alerted Kenzo, what made him speak up suddenly. Grimmer took a deep breath and let it out, nodding. He allowed Kenzo to lift the paper from his hands, setting it aside. He took a few moments to collect his wits before he moved on. He knew this was going to be hard. The letters. These were from…

Each of the compilations of letters was in an envelope marked with a name. Undoubtedly as a means to track the progress of each child’s deteriorating memory, the letters were kept together. The first was under a name Adam Runge. Grimmer stared at it - at the re-taped brown packaging. This child’s stories, his heartfelt feelings to people that he cared for, were inside. Used as a horrendous measure in a social experiment, those letters never reached their recipient, and now only existed to shed light into an unknown child’s past, and the slow deterioration of his mind. How many eyes had viewed his letters? Something that was written for someone to read, used in that way…

Slowly, Grimmer put it down. He didn’t know this boy, what life he led. Perhaps Kenzo had been right, that this was too soon. That he wasn’t ready. He had said….that these children, their stories, could be heard...but right now, the idea of looking inside, reading what was there, made him feel ill. It made his stomach twist, to think of what these letters represented. In the beginning, many of the children probably hoped to hear back. Week to week their hopes were diminished, their fading memories becoming ingrained truths; there was no one to write back to them. By the end, it was little more than an exercise of written ability, the purpose of writing them forgotten.

The soothing feeling of a hand on his back, drawing small soothing circles against him, caused Grimmer to melt backward into the touch, craving it for just a single moment. Looking at his hands, he could see they were shaking. That _he_ was shaking. His heart felt like it was squeezed tight; anything to relieve it, any small gesture….that was all he wanted. Kenzo leaned into him, pressing his face against Grimmer’s. He could feel ticklish lashes against the side of his face, a closeness that relieved at least a little of the tension.

“It’s okay. This wasn't going to be easy, we knew that. Just breathe. It's all right.”

The words were whispered next to his ear, making Grimmer shudder just a little at the tingle. He wasn’t quite sure if it was meant to be a reassurance - that he wasn’t alone, that it was okay to keep going - or if Kenzo was telling him that it was okay to stop now. That was probably it...it would be better, to stop now, that there was no need to force himself to do this. But he wanted to try. The children that suffered in that place deserved at least that much.

He…

 _He_ deserved that much.

Grimmer took a deep breath, reaching up and capturing Kenzo’s hand with his own.

“I'd like to try.” he whispered, eyes closed. “I’ll stop then, if it's too much.”

Kenzo gave his hand a squeeze, pulling back, though he didn’t let go of that hand.

“All right. Take your time, you don’t have to rush this.”

Rather than begin with Adam’s letters, Grimmer spread each of the envelopes on the table. There was one name he did know, after all, one he was familiar with. And if he was to start anywhere, to begin with a familiar face seemed the most appropriate. Still, to see Adolf Reinhart’s name, scrawled neatly on one of the brown paper envelopes, did little to comfort him. Regardless, he opened it, focusing on the hand on his shoulder, comforting and real.

Inside the envelope were not only letters, but sketches. Butterflies, drawn rather well for a boy Adolf’s age. Each drawing and letter was dated, giving at least some idea of the progression of time. Not all letters seemed to be accounted for, as Grimmer noted by the dates; some went months between without a single letter, and the last dated item was less than a full year after the first. These example letters were most likely intended to be a demonstration of the boy's progression, and so what was deemed "irrelevant" was probably disposed of.

He noticed, too, that by the end, there were no sketches. Only letters. 

And reading them...reading those letters…

All that boy had wanted, in the beginning, was to see his mother again. If what he and Kenzo were told was correct, that wouldn't have been possible even if the boy had left that place. But if his uncle had only known...

The more he read, the more Grimmer could start to remember, if he tried. Bits and pieces. Small details...Adolf had a funny smile...he couldn’t quite imagine it in his mind, but he remembered that he’d thought so. Reading the things that Adolf had written, he could imagine the sorts of emotions he was feeling at the time. He mentioned people, places, things that he missed. Wanting to see his uncle. Hoping his mother and father were in a good place.

They were mentioned less and less, over time. The tone became more gloomy, more frightened. Grimmer didn’t read them in full - he wasn’t sure he would be able to. He skimmed, he caught important pieces from each. But one…

_Uncle_

_I did a good thing today. Erich got hurt so he wasn’t allowed his cocoa, so I gave him mine. It makes me feel good so I thought it would make him feel good too. He was so happy he made me a special promise. He said he would remember me._

_I’m scared to forget, so Erich promised to remember for me. I told him lots, in case he doesn't remember it all. I hope he is better soon, no one else knows me as good as he does. It feels scary. I think they don’t like me. Erich makes me feel better so I hope_

...

Grimmer stopped there. He didn’t...need to read any further. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to. The more he read, the more likely he would be exposed to realities within that place. And that exposure, recounted from the confused and frightened words of children, was too much, something he couldn't bear, not now. And that letter, that one in particular...

He had never been happier than that day. It was the one single good thing that he could remember, from that place. It was painful, to read it this way. To know what would happen, despite his hopes to be remembered.

“Erich…”

He whispered the name under his breath. There was nothing familiar about it, nothing that struck a chord. If that had been his name, he would never know it.

He glanced at the sketch that accompanied that particular letter. There was another butterfly - much simpler this time, little more than a pair of connected heart shapes with a line through the middle. Even by this point, he was starting to forget.

What struck him as odd, though, was a second drawing - one at the bottom of the page. Underneath the butterfly, there was a small scene - wave crests drawn at the lower third of the page, and some sort of a fish below. It had a long body and a smile - certainly not an expression befitting a fish. 

“I don’t think…”

Kenzo spoke up hesitantly beside him, and Grimmer turned. The man seemed discontent, a little unhappy about what he was seeing. He was sifting through the other envelopes, undoubtedly looking for an “Erich”. By his tone, Grimmer knew there was none.

“You’re sure there aren’t any others? This is it?”

What was left in the folder Suk had given them was meager; another photograph, a few loose pages of notes, and an audio tape. Certainly nothing like the envelopes. It was almost amusing...it was a bit presumptuous to assume he would be among the children selected to be used as "research data" for this particular experiment...yet, that was just what he had thought. Still, even if his own name wasn't among those other children and their letters...this was still an important find. He turned a confident face toward Kenzo, a mild expression that felt only a little false on his lips.

“That preface did say that these were only a few examples. I imagine not all of the children’s letters were kept. Or perhaps those letters are somewhere, yet to be found.” He started to collect Adolf’s pages back into a neat pile again. “At any rate, all of this, what’s here in these folders...this sort of conclusive data will help me quite a bit, I think. Bonaparta may not be able to provide a confession of his own, but what we’re looking at right now is irrefutable. And of course...”

Grimmer gestured toward himself, turning his lips upward into a smile. “I have a place to start, now. Erich...that’s more than nothing, isn’t it?”

He collected up the few remaining sketches from Adolf’s collection, folding it all neatly as he had found it, and sliding it back into the brown paper envelope. Grimmer could feel his smile fall away again into a more thoughtful expression. He and Kenzo and the Prague police had peeked into those letters. And probably...so had Bonaparta, and Biermann. The educators within that facility. He wondered just how many people had viewed those letters and drawings, made by each of the children. How it was all consolidated into little more than data and theory, information to improve or alter that program. It still made him queasy, just to think about it.

“Right here. I think this was you.”

Kenzo was looking at that photograph, the one attached to the list of names. There was nothing to identify which child was which, but by looking at the faces, Grimmer could certainly identify that boy...Adolf, his friend. Even expressionless and gaunt in that photograph...by his hair, the shape of his face...it looked just like in the photo they had seen, the one his uncle had shown them. He followed Kenzo’s gaze, to a boy on the other side of the same row.

He was a skinny thing with hair that seemed a bit messy, but that was really all he could say he had in common with that picture. They all had the same expressionless faces, no sign of any personality to identify what each child might be like. Not a sparkle to their eyes, all rigidly still, all just the same.

That boy would grow up to live a difficult life. But he _would_ grow up...he would become someone, the person here and now. This life that he had now...was good. He had taken someone else’s place...had been molded part man and part monster, but all the same, the person that he was now...was happy.

Alive and happy...

“He told me that of all the boys like me, most killed themselves.” Grimmer’s voice was somber, a bit distant. “I wonder why I didn’t.” 

There was nothing truly sad about his question; it was a morbid curiosity less than any truly despairing thought. Why it was that _he_ would be the one who lived...perhaps there was nothing special about it. Luck, and nothing else.

A warm hand resting over Grimmer's own returned his thoughts to the present. Subsequently, it occurred to him that such a thought...could sound frightening to someone like Kenzo, who overflowed with empathy and care for others. He turned toward his partner, a little sheepish.

“That’s probably something I shouldn’t be saying out loud...”

Nothing was spoken from Kenzo at first; he just took Grimmer’s hand, holding it delicately between his own, raising it to brush against his lips. The gentle tingle brought a slight smile to Grimmer's face.

“I don’t know if we’ll find an answer to that. But the fact that you didn’t, that you kept going, is incredible. Where you are now...you fought to get this far. You were able to overcome so much. That's the kind of person you are.”

Kenzo’s words were spoken not as a comfort or reassurance, but with sincerity. It was something his partner admired - how much Grimmer had done on his own to become who he was now. It would have been easy, simply to follow his programming. To be the monster that Kinderheim had awakened. But he was more than that. It had been hard....he hadn't come into success easily, and there were places he definitely failed, but he had grown beyond what he could have allowed himself to be. And perhaps that was what Bonaparta had meant, when he spoke of Grimmer. He lived, because he was more than what they told him he was.

Grimmer took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He sat back, looking up toward the ceiling. These sorts of thoughts, all together...it was just a bit tiring.

“I think...that now might be a good time to take a break. It’s a lot more exhausting than I thought.”

Kenzo gave his hand a squeeze and nodded. “We’ll take lunch, then. That spot you like, by the Elbe river. How does that sound?”

Grimmer stood, pulling his hand free so he could stretch. Sitting like that for so long...he could definitely feel the ache. But, he fixed the kind doctor with a bright smile all the same.

“I think that’s an excellent idea. Should I bring our rods? We might not catch much from the shore, but it’s a good time to try!”

Kenzo chuckled, shaking his head. He had that warm and kind smile, a soft expression that Grimmer found endearing in its gentle humour.

“You can bring yours. Don’t forget what happened the last time you let me fish. I think I’ll just watch this time.”

Well, that was entirely fair. Grimmer nodded, working to pack everything back into the folder with a small smile. "Then I suppose we'd best get going."

* * *

He hadn't caught anything, as he'd thought. Nothing worth keeping; there were a few bites, but they were small fry. In the end, it was better to fish earlier in the morning; by now, it was just a little too late to make a good catch. Despite his protests, Kenzo _did_ cast a few lines, though the most he caught was a large, ominous bundle of weeds.

It was a bit breezy on the river, though the sun felt wonderful. Altogether the hot sun and the chill breeze made for a refreshing feeling as the two men set their blanket. There was a wonderful spot in the grass just a little ways in from the water, on a lovely little hill.

“It really does feel nice.” Grimmer spoke more to the air than to Kenzo specifically, his face turned toward the sun as he basked in the warmth. “Days like this are why it’s important to do this from time to time. Slowing down and relaxing...it feels good, don’t you think?”

“It does.”

Grimmer reached into their basket, pulling out the wine he’d brought along.

“Then let’s enjoy ourselves!”

They enjoyed a fairly quiet lunch, in their private little comfortable spot. There weren’t many people that came by this place these days, so it gave them plenty of time to themselves. After lunch, they simply lay and watched the clouds, lulled into a relaxed calm under the warm sun, eyes drifting closed. Grimmer could feel Kenzo next to him, consciousness starting to fade in and out, vaguely aware of sounds around him. The water, the birds, the gentle breeze....all started to flow together, in one amalgamated, relaxing noise.

It was in that state of half-conscious bliss that he heard it again. That soft sound of a child’s laughter.

The rocking of the boat...the water, the tall man, the child. But this time, something about it...

Grimmer sat up abruptly, blinking rapidly. That dream….the dream he had been having. Something….it felt strange, that in the dream he was the child. He was the _boy..._

That drawing….the drawing from Adolf’s sketches, the fish…

_Erich._

“Is everything all right?”

Kenzo was sitting up now, a hand on Grimmer's arm. He took in his every movement, looking with a keen eye, just in case something had happened. Grimmer was staring ahead in disbelief, out at the river, barely aware of what the doctor was saying. He tried again, still using a calm voice.

“Grimmer. Is something wrong?”

He gave a slight negative jerk of his head. Grimmer was startled...definitely startled, but not because something was _wrong_. He took a slow breath, closing his eyes as he focused on calming his senses. 

“I think…”

His voice came hoarsely, flashes of that dream still flitting behind his eyelids as he blinked. The boat rocking...the hiss of a line being cast and the plop as it hit the water…they were all so clear to him, now.

“I think that I was wrong. My dream…the dream I’ve been having...”

Grimmer shook his head. It was never about his son. The boy in that dream...was himself. He was that boy. And the man…

There was no mistaking it, now.

“My father took me fishing as a boy. In an old canoe. We paddled close to the weeds and he would cast his line there. The fish like to hide in places like that, where the water is deeper. And I…”

He heard it again, that peal of laughter, a sound that stirred his heart. A sound...that _he_ had made. He felt his eyes stinging now, from shock or some sort of warm emotion, he wasn't quite sure.

“I was happy that day.”

Grimmer….had never known. Not until now, that memory...trapped inside those letters, those drawings, made by an important friend...something that he had shared with Adolf, back then.

Grimmer enjoyed fishing. It was something he had done in the past. With his wife...he had taken her sometimes, but she only ever watched. He had wanted to take his son. Fishing…something so simple and small...it was something that belonged to his past. Something that even now, somehow, he had held onto. That part of himself…

That boy...wasn’t all gone, after all. Something so precious...he had kept something so important, so close to his heart, and he hadn’t even known. That boy...still existed, as a part of him.

Grimmer could feel a slight wetness on his cheek, but the feeling inside his heart wasn’t tense, or aching. It felt aglow and bright, soaring. He turned, facing Kenzo, the smile on his face starting to hurt. But this kind of pain...this wasn’t a bad pain. Kenzo put a hand on his shoulder, his own eyes sparkling with mirth, a happiness he felt for Grimmer.

“Erich is still a part of you. Even if you’ve changed...he’s still a part of what makes you who _ommmf?_ ”

Possessed by the sudden swell of excited energy, Grimmer found himself acting on impulse, kissing the startled doctor. To his credit, the man recovered quickly enough with a soft, muffled chuckle, returning the favor. It was brief, but filled with more tender emotions than Grimmer thought a kiss could carry. Gratitude and warmth, gladness, a painfully fond love...too many more to name. 

The two eventually pulled apart, though remained close, leaning comfortably against one another and watching the passing clouds.

There was still a ways to go, a lot to remember. And, it wouldn’t all be happy, Grimmer knew that. But this moment...this one memory, if nothing else…

His father had loved to fish. Had shared that love with his son. And even in that place, even when he lost everything...he had still held onto that love, that one piece of himself that his father gave to him.

Grimmer had thought that to find his past would be to bury it, once and for all. To say goodbye to the person he no longer was, and move forward. But this...this was a happier end. 

Grimmer had definitely grown to become a different person. But his childhood self...was still a part of him, a part that helped to shape the person that he was. He might have lost his memories...his name, his identity, but on the inside...he hadn't lost love.

That boy had a happy future after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay well this ended up about 3x longer and sadder than intended but anyway baby Grimmer is still a part of him and he was loved and now he knows so it’s good. Happy end.


End file.
